


Breaking Bread

by Geonn



Category: Castle
Genre: Breakfast, F/M, First Time, Food Sex, Hand Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geonn/pseuds/Geonn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after their first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Bread

There was something ceremonial about having breakfast together. They were forced to put on clothes - well, she supposed that wasn't necessary, but they did - and go downstairs like civilized people. They were forced to put aside the animal lust, the urges that had led to their incident in the elevator, and look at each other in the harsh light of day. She wore one of his shirts, only partially buttoned, and his satin boxers. They felt amazing against her skin, and she was going to ask if she could keep them. What man would refuse that request?

Kate was freshly showered, scrubbing thoroughly on the spots where he'd come. Her hip, her stomach. She lathered her hands with his soap, which naturally carried his smell, and wiped at her throat. There was no more in her hair, he'd wiped it all away earlier. She was only a little sore, less sore than she would have expected considering what he had done to her. She blushed thinking of what they had done to each other as she watched him cook.

Cast-- no. Rick. After last night, he was Rick and she was Kate. Rick was a virtuoso in the kitchen. The eggs were magnificent, the bacon perfectly crisp, and the sausage seemed to melt on her tongue. Her plate was mostly clean and her orange juice half empty when they finally broached the subject. She asked what it meant. He told her it meant that they really cared about each other.

She remembered her shirt being torn, not caring as he bit her nipple through her brassiere. She pushed her hair behind her ear and ducked her head to hide her blushing.

He stood up and came around the table to kneel next to her. He told her it didn't have to mean anything if she didn't want it to. If she wanted to say they had dinner and then shared breakfast with nothing in between, that would be fine with him. She saw that he was sincere, and that was all she needed. She spotted a strawberry on the table and picked it up, pinching it between three fingers before pressing it to her lips.

Rick watched as she circled her lips with the suggestively-shaped head of the fruit. She curled her tongue over it, and his eyebrows knitted together in pain. She took a bite, moved it around in her mouth with her tongue, and bent down to kiss him. She shoved it into his mouth with her tongue and he took it willingly. He gave it back to her and she swallowed. The juices ran from the corners of her mouth, and Rick gently licked away the trails. She shivered under his attention, his hands firm on her hips, fingers digging into her hips like she was so frail... and she felt frail with him. Somehow, frail seemed like a good thing in this situation. She wanted to feel him all around her, inside of her, keeping her safe.

They shared another strawberry, and she licked his lips clean of the juice. He parted her lips with his tongue. She balled her fists in his shirt. And then, somehow, his suggestion that they forget it ever happened led to her straddling him on his kitchen floor.

His sweatpants had a fly with two buttons. She undid them and his cock rose through the opening to greet her. She licked her palm and wrapped it around his shaft, pressing him against the crotch of her borrowed shorts. She rubbed against him as she stroked, staring into his face. His expression was dazed, his attention focused on what she was doing to him. His cock was thick in her hand, warm, and she remembered how it had tasted, how it had felt buried deep inside of her. She whimpered and shook her head.

"This means something," she whispered.

He nodded, and she lifted her hips. The legs of his shorts were baggy enough that she could slip his cock inside one, pressing the head against her cleft. He pushed her open, and she closed her eyes as she sank down onto him again. The question wasn't whether this would happen again, it was how long she could go without feeling him inside of her. Now that she knew what she had been missing, she would be obsessed with it.

On her desk, in her car, in the lock-up... She wanted to take a bath with him just to feel the water make waves against her body in the rhythm of his thrusting.

He pulled out of her and she closed her hand around the tip of his cock. She massaged him, and his come erupted over her palm and fingers, coating them. She gasped, moaned, and drew his hand between her legs. He pressed the crotch of the shorts against her labia and stroked until she came, too. She lifted off of him and sat heavily on the floor of the dining room. He got up, flaccid cock still poking out of his sweats, and took the bowl of strawberries off the table. He held them out to her and smiled.

Kate took one strawberry, rolled it over her palm like his come was Cool Whip, and stared into his eyes as she ate it. Her eyes closed and she moaned at the taste. She used four strawberries to completely clean her hand, but now her fingers were sticky. She remembered her fantasy and asked him if he had a bathtub. He nodded, and she stood and pulled him to her. She whispered her fantasy in his ear and he, surprisingly humble, told her that he wasn't sure he had another performance in him. Kate kissed him, her body pressed tight to his until she felt his cock stirring. She grinned and bit her lip, wrapped her hand around his new erection, and used it to lead him to the bathroom.

The rest of breakfast would just have to wait.


End file.
